


A Duke of My Own

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Getting Together, Humor, Lucid Dreaming, Sho's Hard Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 22:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>How was Dream Sho so calm and suave, making the moves on Keiko when in the real world he was tongue-tied and scared to death of her?</i>
</p><p>Sho, lamenting a rejection from Kitagawa Keiko, has some recurring dreams...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From the following prompt, loosely followed:
> 
> Victorian era romance novel, only one member of the group is aware that they are suddenly in an AU.

He washed his hands, frowning at himself in the bathroom mirror. He looked horrible. Sho was fairly certain he had never actually recovered from the jet lag on the flight over, and now he was just about to be crammed into a seat for twelve hours going back. If only teleportation would hurry up and become real, his life would be much easier.

Of course, plenty of people had it harder than Sakurai Sho, Japanese idol, but he'd always been a grumpy flyer and a grumpy jet lag-haver, and he felt entitled to his current miserable feelings.

He dried his hands, emerging from the bathroom and back into the terminal. His manager, somehow gifted with the ability to sleep anywhere at the drop of a hat, was snoozing peacefully with their carry-on bags at the gate. Sho frowned, envious to the point of tears. He wondered if it was just one of those things they asked you on a job interview for Hard Ass Manager of Grumpy Idol. "Can you sleep anywhere? Can you put up with your idol's occasional bouts of assholery?"

Sho sat down beside him, rudely nudging the man awake. They'd be boarding in about half an hour. "I'm back, you can go," Sho said.

Sugita-san's face woke before his eyes even opened, his lips twisting into a sneer. "I don't need to go."

Sho unzipped his backpack, digging through his collection of shirts and trinkets for his fellow Arashi members. "You can go," he repeated. "You're stuck in the middle seat, you know, it's not easy to get out."

"Piss off," Sugita grumbled, trying to turn back to the comfort of his suit jacket slash pillow.

It was then that Sho realized what he'd done. "Damn it..."

"What?" his manager asked, finally stirring enough to wipe some drool from his jacket pillow.

He dug and dug through his bag, but no luck. "I must have left my book on the bedside table of the hotel. I have nothing to read on the plane."

"The airline magazine," his manager replied, unsympathetic as usual. "Or watch a movie. Watch four movies. Read a newspaper."

Sho frowned, trying for his "I'm a helpless idol, woe is me" pouting face.

Sugita sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

"A book," Sho said. "Fiction. Get me fiction."

"The books are in English," Sugita reminded him. "I have no fucking idea what they say."

Sho turned his pouting face up a notch until Sugita got to his feet, making whiny manager noises.

"I am not your slave," Sugita reminded him. "And I am not your bank." He held out his hand.

Sho dug in his pocket for his wallet, pulling out a few pound notes he had left. "Buy yourself something too. And don't be an asshole and forget to wash your hands before you go to the book kiosk."

"Like you'd even know," Sugita said, wiggling his fingers before heading down the terminal for the restroom.

Sho sat back, so tired he knew he wasn't going to sleep for hours. Between the plane food and whatever Sugita managed to bring back from the bookseller, Sho was bound for a shitty flight. But his work here was done, though he hadn't had much time to wander around London and enjoy blessed anonymity. It had been Olympics non-stop from the moment he'd stepped off the plane, between interviews and memorizing the lives of several key athletes from their birth to the pop of the starting gun.

He was fortunate, getting to come here all expenses paid and then some, but it was still a lot of work on top of his existing metric ton of work. "Sleep on the plane," they always told him. It had been only a month since he'd gotten back from Singapore, another long flight, hot weather (especially filming in a tux), and the unfortunate feeling of rejection. He hadn't slept much then either.

It had been a dumb move, one of his dumbest in fact. And yet he'd tried it. They'd been on the same floor of the hotel, and Sugita had outdone himself in coercing Keiko's manager into a drink at the bar. It had been his moment, his one perfect moment to go "hey, you know what...I think I like you...maybe we should..."

He'd made it through the original drama filming without pestering her, mostly because Kitagawa Keiko fucking terrified him. Sho had worked with his share of actresses and as a personal rule he usually didn't sleep with them in the event that they might work with one of the other members someday (or worse, a kohai). The last thing he needed was a cheeky kohai calling up to say "So-and-so-san says you were a complete dick to her."

But she was different. She was kind to the staff, made fast friends with the crew and the directors. She was utterly and completely professional, something that in normal circumstances turned him on. Sho was inevitably, hopelessly attracted to hard workers, to people who dialed it up on set, never lost their cool, and made up for his own shortcomings. Keiko was all of those things, but she was also scary.

That fall had been full of looks from the corner of her eye, the brush of a hand to his sleeve after a difficult take. And then of course the wrap party when Sugita said she'd checked him out like he was on the auction block and she was ready to spend. Sho had always been intimidated by women who knew exactly what they wanted from him. Women who cut to the chase and didn't have time to deal with his shyness. By the end of filming, Sho knew that Kitagawa Keiko was dangerous and that she wouldn't tolerate a courtship that didn't meet her standards. She was fine without him, fine without anyone. If he wanted her, someone like her who didn't really need him, he had to prove he was worth the effort.

So he'd let that ship sail. Well, for a few days. Then they'd learned about filming for a special episode to be broadcast that spring. Just when he thought he'd been freed from the little touches and teases that drove him insane with lustful thoughts and the fear of not quite being able to meet expectations in reality, she was back. This time with back and forths to Okinawa. 

With scripted hand-holds and a lovey-dovey story with her character's doppelganger and even a peck on the cheek, he'd nearly lost it. He had to play Tough and Manly and Masculine and she was there with her "thanks for your hard work" cheerfulness and her "I'm going to ride you like the shinkansen" eyes. Sho still wasn't sure how he'd gotten through it without coming in his pants like a junior high school kid seeing his first porno.

But this summer had been different. He'd had a few months out of her orbit before the offer and contracts had come round in order to capitalize on what the network saw as a winning combination, to make a movie version of the drama. This time he'd decided to man up and not be afraid of her. Her confident desire didn't have to be so frightening. He was Sakurai Sho, and he could still give as good as he got. What had happened to that firebrand of a teenager, using his name at uni parties to go home with someone? Where was the prick who'd broken so many hearts? When had he gotten so soft? When had he become the type of loser that would let a clearly interested Kitagawa Keiko get away because he was too afraid to ask her out?

So he'd gotten it set up, had Sugita lure the manager, had knocked on her hotel room door with gusto. All he'd been missing was that shitty ass cologne he'd worn in university when he was on the prowl and trying to beat Nino's monthly tally. She'd answered the door, makeup-free and squeaky clean, glasses on her nose.

"Keiko-chan..."

Her face had fallen at the sight of him. "Sho-san," she'd said right upfront, the "Sho-kun" she preferred hidden away. "Bad timing."

"Huh?" he'd asked, seeing as how she'd already skipped way ahead straight to rejecting him.

She'd actually looked quite sad, which didn't help at the time as "no" was "no" no matter what. "Bad timing," she repeated. "I'd love to, but I've got a drama lead lined up for the fall. We're in talks now. I need to focus."

"So...you're busy," he'd replied, even though he himself was one of the busiest people in Japan and for him, timing wasn't an issue. Couldn't they just start and stop as time allowed?

"I'm really and truly busy," she'd said, but not without looking him up and down freely. "I'm so sorry."

And because he was kind of an idiot and his grand gesture had been so thoroughly rejected without him even being able to ask the question, he'd simply nodded and said "of course, maybe some other time" and had slunk down the hall for the most depressing masturbatory episode of his life.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Japan Airlines flight 402 to Tokyo Narita will now begin preliminary boarding."

He was dazed from his thoughts at the sudden, noisy bit of English over the public address system. And what great thoughts they were, too. Kitagawa Keiko in her t-shirt and some shorts, opening her hotel room door only to close it again within two minutes. Maybe three if he tried to remember her staring at him longer than she actually had.

When he got back from London, he had 24 Hour TV prep work and no time. The window of opportunity, his and Keiko's window of opportunity, was shut. They'd promote the movie next year, but she'd already judged his poor sense of timing. She'd probably find someone else or maybe she'd find nobody at all. She was so work-driven that it made Sho look like a slacker. It was always going to be a case of two ships passing in the night or some other cliche for "we didn't get to fuck."

A thick paperback smacked him in the chest, and Sugita returned carrying what was quite possibly the world's largest cup of iced coffee. At some point it stopped being a cup and started being a jug.

"No change," Sugita said, which meant that he'd pocketed Sho's money as a gratuity for his years of servitude.

"You drink that and you'll have to piss before we even take off," Sho warned him, hearing the ice slosh around in the cup as Sugita sipped it proudly.

"Read your fucking book."

Sho picked it up, frowning at the cover. It was English alright, and to his mother's utter dismay, his English reading skills had deteriorated gravely over the years. He'd be lucky to get a word per sentence. But that wasn't actually what annoyed him the most about the book, which was titled _A Duke of My Own_.

It was the cover. A man and woman embracing. The man had a chest the size of a football stadium, and the woman's massive breasts were about to tumble from the top of her emerald green dress. She had long blonde curls tumbling down her back, and he was clutching her to him as though they were about to go at it like a pair of rabbits while the reader watched.

"Store full of books and you bring me this," Sho complained.

"There was a line for the men's room," Sugita said. "And a longer line at Starbucks. May I remind you that _Skyward_ , the in-flight magazine, is featuring an article on the charms of kabuki? And numerous other surprises for the patient reader?"

Sho shoved the book in his bag with a huff. Sugita's revenge for being Sho's errand boy, going above and beyond every day of his life so long as Arashi was selling and selling well. He pulled his boarding pass from his pocket, getting to his feet.

The plane sat at the gate for twenty minutes before finally heading to the runway and taking to the skies. Before too long Sugita had to piss, moving from his middle seat past Sho's aisle seat and doing his best to hold it as he queued up behind the other people who'd gotten up as soon as the fasten seat belts sign had turned off. Sho got up, opening the overhead compartment and pulling the book from his bag. The "charms of kabuki" had been bad, the movie selection was worse. It was apparently time to stumble through _A Duke of My Own_. At the very least, it would be good practice, so long as he didn't let the gray-haired woman sitting across the aisle from him see the cover.

Sugita smiled in victory when he returned, bladder emptied. In minutes he was asleep again, the asshole, just as Sho was getting started. He wasn't understanding much, but at least it was passing the time. From the first few chapters, he'd been introduced to Griffin, a duke who had met with some mishap with a horse. With Sho's limited English, the horse had either kicked Griffin, unseated him, or fucked his mother. Either way he was left with amnesia and a surly attitude. His love interest was Adele, a governess or nanny or something like that. She was in the house to care for Griffin's niece. Sho didn't know why the kid was living with the duke, but he assumed it had been explained already and he didn't feel like turning back the pages.

Either way, it became an issue of class differences. And an obvious issue of love overcoming all obstacles, and there were more than 200 pages of those obstacles to still get through. As the minutes passed, Sho grew tired. The already unfamiliar words on the pages started to blur, the hum of the jet engines lulled him out of any otherwise coherent thoughts, and the flight attendants shut off the cabin lights, leaving Sho in the dark with only the buttery glow of his overhead light to continue following along with Adele and Griffin's riveting story.

So of course, he gave up on reading and gave in to sleep.

\--

Sho stirred at the sound of a sharp knock on the door. Confusion set in when he realized he was in a prone position, on his back with a heavy mound of blankets covering him. He popped his head up from beneath them. "Come in," he called out, loud and clear, even if his thoughts certainly didn't match the confidence of his words. Almost as though his mouth was moving without him telling it to.

Wasn't he still on the plane from London?

No, apparently he was not. He was in a very large bedroom, snugly tucked into a four-poster bed with hideous gauzy curtains. Before he could sneer at them, the door opened and Matsujun walked in, dressed head to foot in something that might have served as a Kageyama backup costume on the Nazodi set. But something wasn't right. Why was Jun here? And what had happened to the plane? How did he get here?

"Have I overslept?" Sho's voice asked instead, once more without his knowledge. It was as though Sho, the real Sho, was trapped inside his own body and someone else was working the controls. Because it was his body. His hands, his arms, though they were stuffed inside a pair of itchy pajamas that he didn't recognize either.

"You have indeed, my lord," came Jun's reply, and now Sho figured it out. A dream. He was dreaming. Because there wasn't a planet in the galaxy that existed where Matsumoto Jun would ever address him as "my lord."

Jun approached the bed, not a hair out of place. Even in Sho's dreams, even when Sho's subconscious tossed him into a butler's outfit, he was still neat and fashionable. Sho in his awful pajamas envied him that. "Have I missed any engagements?"

At that, Jun shook his head. "Not at all, my lord. Your health is of utmost importance, and you have no engagements today or any day until you have fully recovered."

"And what am I recovering from exactly?"

Jun looked a little embarrassed. "Your memory lapses, sir."

That fucking book. Fucking Sugita. Sho tossed the blankets off, giving Jun a bit of a shock. It would have been better if the dream had left him on the beach with a drink. It would have been better if he was dreaming of playing for Japan's World Cup soccer team. Even a flying dream would be better despite his issues with heights. Instead his subconscious had stuck him in _A Duke of My Own_. 

He moved to the window, pulled the curtains to find a foggy morning, rolling green lawns. An expansive and certainly most English estate. He'd tumbled into Jane Austen's backyard, although he and Jun were most definitely not English, nor were they speaking it.

He turned back, finding Jun waiting patiently for him. "And who might you be in this place?" 

"Matsumoto, sir. Your valet."

"My..."

"Valet," Jun continued. At the very least, this Jun didn't look at him the way the real Jun did when he said something senseless. "Your manservant."

He wanted to laugh. He really wanted to. But it was a dream and he was stuck in this weird persona in this weird house and couldn't even take control long enough to laugh at Jun for claiming to be his manservant. Perhaps this was actually a nightmare instead.

Things were also progressing very slowly, to Sho's dismay. In most dreams he had, time was a rather fluid thing. He'd flit from place to place or things would blend together, but it seemed like minutes were ticking by as he lamented winding up in this ridiculous world. "Very well, Matsumoto. I should like to take my breakfast."

"Very good, my lord," Jun said, heading for the wardrobe.

He then stood there awkwardly, unable to even express his discomfort as Jun helped to dress him for the day. He was fitted into another itchy starched shirt and a waistcoat, cringing internally as Jun helped him into a nearly knee-length coat and pinstriped trousers. He was complete with socks and shoes and felt damn overdressed for breakfast, which Sho usually ate in a t-shirt and shorts.

Jun finished everything off with a brush, running it over his jacket to clean away lint or dandruff or whatever the hell he was looking for, so long did he spend pushing the stupid brush down the sharp angle of his shoulders. Even his dream self, the lord of the manor, couldn't help the slope.

"I'll have Cook prepare everything. Very good to see you up and about, sir," Jun said before excusing himself. That left Sho to scowl at himself in the mirror for a moment before he followed Jun out.

The vast estate was accompanied by an equally obnoxious house. He found himself on a plush carpeted hallway floor adorned with portraits and landscape art of places and people he didn't know. Eventually he made it to a grand staircase that led down to an even grander entry hall. Servants were scurrying about cleaning windows and dusting. Each maid who passed gave him a quick curtsy.

He found the breakfast room and was about to sit down when a curly brown-haired rat plowed into him.

"Philippa!"

Sho, despite his lack of dream control, jolted at the sound of her voice. He didn't even look down at the child who'd run into him, turning around to find Kitagawa Keiko hurrying over with an apologetic look in her eyes. And it was her, there was no mistake. Of course, she wasn't in her Hosho Reiko fine clothes or her Kitagawa the actress casual chic. Her hair was tied back in a strict bun and she wore a blue dress with black trim, a high neckline, and a ruffled skirt. Sho was almost grateful to be in the middle of an out of body experience, if only because he was now discovering a previously unknown English nanny fetish.

The child slipped away from Sho, running to hide behind Keiko's skirts. Keiko bobbed her head, none of the usual "I want you to taste every part of me" confidence in her eyes.

Instead she turned to scold the child. "Philippa, that is not how you greet your lord uncle, now is it?"

The little girl, with her frizzy hair and crooked teeth, had fallen right out of a BBC drama but was kind enough to speak in Japanese for his dream benefit. She peeked around Keiko's middle, inclining her head. "Forgive me, Uncle. Good morning to you."

He played along. "No running in the corridors, please."

The little girl frowned at him. "That is what Nino always says."

Great, was Nino here too? Was there a cast of thousands? How long before this dream ended already?

"I'm still...working on getting back into the swing of things here," he said, leaning a hand against the back of the chair at the head of the table. Keiko's face revealed nothing, no judgment, no sympathy. Sho wondered how many petticoats and other women things were underneath that dress of hers.

She took the cue to introduce herself. "Miss Kitagawa. I'm Philippa's governess."

Of course you are, he thought. The amnesiac Griffin needed his Adele. Fucking Sugita!

"Miss Kitagawa," he said, tapping the chair. "Would you join me for breakfast?"

"Sho-kun..."

\--

"Sho-kun."

"No," he murmured, desperate to get back to that blue dress and the hair that was tied up out of his reach. "No, I didn't have breakfast."

Sugita's elbow was a jabbing pain in his left side. "Sho-kun, we're landing in twenty minutes."

He registered the sounds of the plane again, the jostling of people in other seats. The distinct lack of a "Miss Kitagawa" in a nanny dress disciplining that child in such a firm, sexy voice. He opened his eyes, finding _A Duke of My Own_ sitting on his lap. Reality had sadly returned. He hadn't even gotten past introductions with dream Keiko and here he was, back in a world where she had been all but open for business for him for months and he'd never taken advantage. His cock blocked at every turn.

Sugita shoved a cup of water at him. "I snagged this for you. Don't need to look dehydrated for the paparazzi when we land."

"Your concern is heartfelt as always," Sho grumbled, sipping the water.

He pulled a baseball cap from his carry-on, pulling it down over his hair, and then scowled his way through passport control and the Narita terminal. He knew he was never going to win Friendliest Airport Celebrity of the Year, but he suppressed a grin as Sugita did his usual Paparazzi Blocker choreography through Narita. A hand up to block a camera here, a hand on Sho's back to guide him onto an escalator there. The guy might have been one of Johnny's better dancers if he was twenty years younger.

The "Dragon Lady" was waiting in the car for him while Sugita sat up front with the company driver to head back to Tokyo. She was new to Johnny's and had been recently poached from Avex. With the growing number of Arashi and individual activities, Eriko-san was the new "Arashi floater" manager. A manager for their managers, someone who stepped in when there was so much going on even the managers were going nuts trying to keep track of everything. Sho thought she was wonderful. Sugita (who was responsible for coining the "Dragon Lady" moniker) wanted her head on a pike.

Unlike Sugita who relied on a Blackberry and iPhone combo to make sure Sho didn't self-destruct, Eriko-san was a fan of clipboards and a paper trail. As soon as Sho was buckled in and the car pulled away from the curb, a clipboard was presented with a summation of everything that had happened in Japan during his absence. The daily weather he'd missed, a list of the shows she had recorded for him (with accompanying DVD jewel cases), top news stories drilled down into digestible bullet points, and a minute-by-minute up-to-date schedule for 24 Hour TV that now had a built in "Number 2 Break" sometime around 11:30 PM as Sho had requested.

Sho liked schedules. Thus Sho liked Eriko-san.

But today he didn't really have time to listen to her squawk at him about Shiyagare filming. He was still stuck in that stupid book and in his stupid dream from the plane. Stuck thinking about Kitagawa Keiko. Hopefully she'd forgive his sullen expression and half-hearted thank yous, letting jet lag take the blame.

He was dropped off at his place, hearing Sugita and Eriko-san break into a noisy argument just before he shut the car door. Finally free of his babysitters, he took the elevator up, enjoying the whoosh of cold air as he turned his A/C on within seconds of opening his door. He did a half-assed unpacking job, only setting aside the gifts he'd purchased for the members before stripping down and collapsing on his bed with a mumbled complaint to nobody about having to wake at 5:00 the following morning for a CM shoot. He almost envied the Sho of his dreams with his large estate and zero responsibilities.

He rolled onto his back, sighing, wondering if he should forego sleep entirely to get his body clock

\--

"...listening to a word I've been saying?"

Sho blinked, finding himself being thoroughly lectured by Nino. His clothes were different, but he was somehow back at the estate. He was dressed in a long coat, top hat, and gray trousers this time, and he was outdoors looking out over the rolling green hills.

Nino was there, fuming for some reason, arms crossed.

"Sorry, what was that? My mind wandered..."

Nino, who was wearing a bowler hat that made the rest of him look even more childlike than usual, gestured out at the hills. "Then you shouldn't be out here trying to do business if you're still not up to snuff. Now as I was relating to you, the yields from Bennet farm are next to nothing, and you'd do well to sell it to anyone who'll take that money-draining homestead off your hands. You'd think they salted the earth with the paltry profit they bring to you."

Sho only nodded. "Sure, dump Bennet farm," said the Sho who spoke for him, the body he was inhabiting.

Nino continued on, money this and money that. Sho mostly went along with whatever suggestions Nino thought were best, discovering over the course of the lengthy conversation that in this strange universe Jun was his valet and Nino was his estate manager, responsible for the grounds and the land he owned, which apparently consisted of numerous small farms.

They headed back to a two-horse carriage that had been parked at the roadside, climbing inside. Nino thumped the roof of the carriage with his walking stick and the driver got them moving. He was the same Nino in voice and appearance, which was probably why he didn't act like Sho was a nobleman worthy of preferential treatment. There were no "sir" or "my lord" pronouncements from Nino, who simply called him "Sho" and grumbled as the carriage jostled them back to the manor.

Upon arrival, Sho felt his heart race (or at least the Dream Sho's heart race) as the front door of the house opened, and "Miss" Kitagawa and the child, Philippa, came out to greet them upon their arrival. Nino busied himself immediately by teasing the little girl and asking her to do sums in her head to calculate the monthly salary that Sho paid him.

This conveniently left Sho and Miss Kitagawa standing awkwardly on the gravel drive as the driver, horses, and carriage headed off for the stables. Even though Sho had been propelled through time from his breakfast in the last dream to whatever time and place this was, he somehow knew that things between him and Miss Kitagawa had slightly improved. 

"Your first morning afield, my lord," Miss Kitagawa said, looking at him shyly in a way that would probably have seemed odd coming from the real Keiko. "It must have been lovely to be off the estate and taking in the fresh air."

"With homecomings like these, perhaps I'll require Ninomiya to force me out again soon."

At that, Miss Kitagawa's cheeks turned pink and she looked down. "My lord..."

What, Sho thought. What?! Somehow in this universe he was the one saying the right things, the one getting good reactions from Keiko? In the real world he had been the one hiding erections behind couches on set, blushing like a teen girl every time Keiko described him as "cool" (not that she did it often...but when she did...).

"Perhaps you could join me for some of that fresh air sometime, Miss Kitagawa." He leaned over, lowering his voice. "Just the two of us."

What the hell, he was screaming internally. How was Dream Sho so calm and suave, making the moves on Keiko when in the real world he was tongue-tied and scared to death of her? Maybe in the real world all he had to do was fall off a horse and have his personality rewired.

"My duty is to Philippa," she reminded him softly.

"Not to your employer?"

She reddened again, and he sobbed internally as her tongue slipped briefly from her mouth to wet her lips. Not even ten feet away Nino was engaged in some jokes with the little frizzy-haired brat, oblivious. 

He found himself leaning closer, and Miss Kitagawa's posture grew all the more rigid. "Perhaps we could discuss the terms of my employment at a later date if you wish to...reconsider your expectations of my duties, my lord," she said.

It was times like these in _A Duke of My Own_ that the hero started internally salivating over the heroine, describing in all-too-lurid detail about wanting to part her creamy thighs and ram himself into her like a jackhammer. Well, the Victorian England equivalent of a jackhammer, Sho supposed. He suddenly realized that he was equally afflicted now with these "jackhammer thoughts."

The thought of Miss Kitagawa under his hands, unlacing laces and unhooking hooks. Pulling the pins from her hair and letting it tumble down and splay out against his pillowcase. To hear her scream "my lord!" in ecstasy.

Yeah, he was no better than the perverted hero of the story, feeling himself grow warmer and warmer despite it being a dream. Watching Miss Kitagawa lick her lips again made even Dream Sho stiffen up and release a quiet little puff of breath to keep from groaning.

Which only meant one thing.

\--

He woke angrily to the horrible feeling of having come in his sleep. His boxers were stuck to him, one of his better pairs now in desperate need of a wash...or simply a toss in the trash. He sat up uncomfortably, feeling like a complete tool. Wet dreams? Wet dreams, really? At thirty years old?

A quick glance at the clock revealed 2:47 AM Tokyo time. He complained out loud to himself as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. At least he hadn't slept naked and sprayed all over his sheets and blankets like a horny teenager who didn't realize the power of his own dick. The human body was remarkable, he thought bitterly, turning on the water.

Being up early gave him time to page through all of the Dragon Lady clipboard, to catch up on the work he'd neglected in favor of other work. Time he definitely didn't want to spend wondering why he'd had the exact same dream.

Well, it wasn't the exact same dream he'd had on the plane. It was the same setting though, the same characters. Like a continuing story. A story where his pants had tented solely because a buttoned-up, sexually repressed Governess Keiko had licked her lips and blushed.

He went to work, was fussed with by managers and photographers and directors and producers, came home again. There was _A Duke of My Own_ still in his carry-on, taunting him. Fucking Sugita. 

The next few weeks passed in much the same way, and his dreams as well. 24 Hour TV came and went and still he found himself in the English countryside over and over by night.

Because they were recurring now. He'd never had dreams like them before. Sure he'd had dreams where the same things happened. Dreams of running through his grandmother's house in Gunma. Dreams of being on stage naked with the other members, not even a plastic A-RA-SHI costume to save them from utter humiliation. Dreams of being back in school with a test he hadn't studied for.

This was entirely different. It was progressing. There was a plot. There were side plots even! In a less-than-sexy dream he'd had one night after a News ZERO taping, Satoshi-kun (the manor's cook) and Aiba-chan (the comic relief footman of the novel) had related some stupid story about the niece character, little Philippa, and how Philippa's mother hadn't really died in some carriage accident. So now there was apparently a crazed mother on the loose who'd probably come to snatch the child away, and everyone was on Sho's ass about protecting the kid.

Needless to say the little girl was not Sho's favorite character in the story. Sho liked kids. Most of his friends had them now so he was used to them, and he enjoyed playing with babies and toddlers since his own schedule wouldn't allow him to have any yet. But every time little Philippa appeared in one of his stupid recurring dreams she was there to tug Miss Kitagawa away for some French lessons or a geography lesson when His Lordship was doing his utter best to try and slip inside the governess' pantaloons. Did she wear pantaloons? What were pantaloons? Sho supposed he could Google it and find out the whole underwear situation.

As the summer heat started to fade and autumn arrived, Sho's usual politeness and tolerance of his busy lifestyle grew a bit shaky. He was having the dreams almost every night now, and still he'd gotten no further with "Miss" Kitagawa, who had only just started flirting back. And then there was always Philippa to interrupt or a combination of his alarm clock and Sugita banging on his apartment door in the morning like a bitter ex-girlfriend. He'd even tossed _A Duke of My Own_ into paper recycling in September, and still the story stuck with him.

His obsession with Dream Keiko was starting to give way to an obsession with Reality Keiko. The Keiko who now had a weekly drama on Saturday nights at 9:00 PM this fall season and was, conveniently enough, playing a school teacher. Of course she wasn't in governess gear, and she wasn't shyly accepting Dream Sho's compliments. But he recorded the episodes, drinking beer and watching them at 2:00 AM like a fucking creep.

He'd watch Reality Keiko on TV until he fell asleep, would dream of Miss Kitagawa reading and flirting with him in the manor library, would wake with an erection, would shamefully masturbate with the combined images of her wanting to dominate him in real life and be dominated by him in the dream world. And this was all on top of variety show filming, News ZERO, performing at Kokuritsu, and gearing up for the domes.

By December and Kouhaku rehearsals, everyone had finally had enough of his shit.

\--

They'd been at NHK for the better part of the day, and Sho's only entertainment had been watching Satoshi-kun's eyes glaze over in unabashed glee while the AKB girls shook their asses in an energetic rehearsal.

These months had been hard on Sho, who would never in a million years let on how stressed he was to management. Especially when half of said stress was because he was completely fucking incompetent at starting a normal relationship, or even asking a woman out. The other members, however, could tell. They could always fucking tell. It was part of that Arashi "magic" that magazines were endlessly trying to get them to talk about when really the Arashi "magic" was just that the others knew when one of their own hadn't gotten laid in a while and desperately needed something besides his hand or a stranger to keep him company. Arashi "magic" meant to steer clear and let that person refocus until they "got the girl" they wanted or moved on. Their pornography sharing ring quieted down, dirty magazines vanished from Aiba's bag in the green room.

They didn't normally talk relationships or girlfriends because that was personal business. It had become an unspoken rule in the group after an eighteen year old Matsujun had bragged to anyone who would listen for a month after he'd lost his virginity. "I got laid!" he'd squealed. "It was awesome!" Somehow the rule had just kicked in once that month was up and the girl had cheated on him with some Kansai junior who apparently "lasted longer than 46 seconds." The agony poor Matsujun endured was a lesson they all learned. And that lesson was simply "don't talk about your sex life."

But this time Sho's jittery nerves and lack of a stable home life were so severe that an extremely rare group intervention was staged. The Dragon Lady probably saw through their bullshit, but Aiba needled her into booking them a private room post-Kouhaku rehearsal ostensibly so Aiba could spend the night complaining about how ridiculously difficult it was to memorize the dialogue for his new medical drama.

Their managers clucked around them like hens in the farmyard for the first hour of said evening until finally Nino opened Ohno's wallet and paid them to go drink at the restaurant bar. Once the private room was actually private and Matsujun was grilling all sorts of things that everyone knew Sho liked, Aiba wrapped an arm around him.

"Sho-chan, seriously, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me," he protested into a glass of oolong tea, even though he'd always been the worst liar of all of them.

"You've been acting strange since the summer," Nino said, slipping their Leader's wallet back into his pants pocket. "Not work strange. You always eat your way through those kinds of problems."

Jun flipped a piece of beef with the tongs, snorting in laughter. 

Aiba rubbed his shoulder. "Well, if it's not work it must be lady trouble. Awww, how long has it been?"

"None of your business," Sho grumbled, shoving his plate roughly until it clanged against the grill rack. Jun dutifully tossed a piece of meat onto it without even cutting it up for the others to share.

Ohno looked at him sadly. "Did you get dumped?"

"No."

Aiba kept rubbing his shoulder. He'd probably seen it on some intervention reality show on late-night satellite TV. "Do you like guys? Are you gay now?"

"No!"

"It's okay if you like guys," Nino said, swirling the ice cubes in his glass. "We're open minded."

"Fuck off," Sho complained, reaching for his chopsticks to pick up the grilled meat. "I don't like guys."

Jun was moving on to some beef tongue, letting it sizzle on the grill rack. "Ki-ta-ga-wa," Jun said, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips.

"Johnny-san?" Ohno asked in confusion.

Nino nearly spat his drink. "What?"

Ohno scratched his head. "Wait, no...Julie-san?"

Aiba finally stopped touching him. "You have an old people fetish?"

Sho stared at Jun in horror. How the hell did he know? Jun turned the tongue over with the tongs. "Sugita talked to my manager about your night at the Raffles Hotel this summer," he explained. 

Sho narrowed his eyes. Sugita, the fucking traitor. "And what exactly did Sugita say?"

"What Raffles Hotel?" Aiba asked, dumbfounded.

"Oh," Nino said, wickedness in his eyes. "Kitagawa Keiko-chan. You didn't!"

"Sugita only said that he detained Keiko-chan's manager at the Raffles Hotel bar one night so you could meet privately," Jun replied. "That is the only information I have been provided."

Nino took over from there. "Okay, okay. So based on the forlorn sack of grouchiness we've been working with for the past few months, I'm guessing she turned you down? And you're still not over it?"

Sho crunched down on an ice cube, making Ohno and Aiba wince a bit in fright. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"It'll feel better if you do," Nino said. "And besides, the makeup woman at Fuji TV told me your eye bags are worse than her grandpa's, so whatever it is about your Oujo-sama that's keeping you up at night is starting to get noticed. And since we love you and value your happiness..."

Jun snorted again, passing a plate of meat to Ohno.

"Piss off," Nino said, "I wouldn't wear a fucking popcorn head with four other people picked at random, you know." He turned back to Sho. "Since we love you and value your happiness, as well as our stellar reputation with the staff in this cutthroat industry, you need to just let it out so you can start the healing process. This night is for you."

Aiba chuckled in his usual merry way. "Sho-chan, don't you always win those 'I want him to be my boyfriend' polls? Did she really turn someone of your caliber down?"

"I don't have a caliber," he grumbled, chewing on a mouthful of meat. "I'm just a man, okay."

"There's something more," Satoshi-kun said, looking at him shrewdly. "Isn't there?"

It took four more plates of meat and Nino attempting to give him some model's phone number before Sho finally let it all out. He took it back to 2011 and the original drama filming and all of Keiko's flirting and smiling, then on to the special and on to movie filming. Then once he got going, he really got going. He choked out the embarrassing night in Singapore, the trip back from London, and the stupid book and the dreams.

He told them all in the vaguest terms possible about the recurring dreams, about Lady Killer Dream Sho and Miss Kitagawa and the stupid top hats and how he hadn't seen Keiko in person for months but he was considering reading her blog to try and determine if she had a boyfriend or not, and finally Nino stopped him.

Sho realized with a quick glance at his phone and the piles of empty plates around the table that he'd been pouring his pathetic, horny heart out to his bandmates for thirty-seven minutes straight without a break. They were staring at him like he had just suggested they let him come up with the choreography for their next single himself, so stunned were the four faces around the table.

"Sho-chan, you've been having the same dream for _four months_?" Aiba asked.

"I'm a cook?" Ohno chimed in. "What do I make?"

Jun waved them both off, shaking his head in dismay. "Do you need a Solanax or something? I can get you a Solanax."

"I don't need a Solanax," he mumbled. "Thank you, Matsumoto Pharmacy."

"Why don't you try again?" Aiba suggested. "Her drama is ending, a new year is starting. Year of the snake, you know..."

"Pervert. You sound like you're fourteen," Nino complained. "Year of the snake..."

"No, Aiba-chan's right," Ohno said. "If you're having all these dreams, it's...well, it's weird, obviously, and maybe you should see a doctor, but um, maybe the dreams are trying to tell you something?"

"They're telling him that the only way he's ever going to get with Kitagawa Keiko is if she's suddenly in a Charles Dickens remake," Nino said.

"Jane Austen," Sho said quietly. "If I had to say, it's closer to Jane Austen..."

"Well, either way, your subconscious is a mess, Sho-kun," Jun said. "You need to at least see her in person and get a grip before you start parsing her blog for secret messages. She was obviously interested at one time, at least from what you told us, and it just came down to bad timing."

"At least sleep with the dream version of her," Nino said encouragingly. "That should give you some expectations of what you're missing, might clear your head. Or give you the push you need to man up and ask her out again."

"Year of the snake," Aiba started chanting. "Year of the snake!"

"Year of the snake!" Ohno joined in, and soon the both of them were clapping their hands and repeating it over and over. "Year of the snake!"

"Can we please stop talking about this?" he moaned. "Please?"

Nino came around the table, wrapping his arms around Sho and hugging him. "Grandpa eyebags, Sho-chan. Seriously."

"Alright, alright, I'll try," he said, realizing he'd just agreed to try having sex in his dreams with a former colleague. Never a dull moment.


	2. Chapter 2

He rang in 2013 with Arashi and spent his few days off with family. And then once January was in full swing it was time for Operation Figure Out My Personal Life. His other option had been Operation Seduce Keiko but he found it to be a rather lofty name for something he wasn't necessarily guaranteed.

With a more positive attitude and the freshness that a New Year always brought, Sho seemed to have better luck as well. It didn't necessarily hurt that among his pile of New Year's cards there was one from Keiko herself, wishing him "happiness and health" and that she "looked forward to movie promotions" with him later in the year.

Of course she probably sent a card with the exact same message to Shiina-san and other cast members, but he chose to ignore that in favor of the cute little smily face doodle she'd drawn on the card. Surely that smily face meant he still had a shot.

It was just after his birthday when he received a surprise invite to a meal with Nishikido Ryo. He'd always been closer to Nino and Matsujun, but Sho had a sneaking suspicion that he'd regret not accepting. He found a nervous-looking Nishikido waiting for him at an agency-favorite ramen place.

Before they'd even gotten their food, Nishikido got to the point. "Is Kitagawa Keiko as scary as she seems?"

Sho nearly choked on his water. "Huh?"

"Kitagawa Keiko-chan," Nishikido repeated, shifty-eyed and almost shaking. "We're filming a movie together. I leave for Hokkaido in less than a week for location shooting. And not like Sapporo but like, middle of nowhere Hokkaido. Freeze your balls off Hokkaido. In February. So, um, I just wanted to know what she's like. I mean, out of the agency you've worked with her the most, right?"

"Uh...what about Yamashita?"

Nishikido looked ready to turn purple. "It's because of him that I'm asking you instead. They used to go out, and I guess it ended badly, so I didn't really want to...you know, get punched in the face."

"Why would he punch you for that?"

"Because um, this movie...it's a love story, so..."

"I see," Sho said, although he very much did not want to see. He was already internally fuming at the thought of Yamapi and his pretty face getting up in Keiko's face. And now Nishikido was going to romance her on the big screen. He was suddenly envisioning a king size bed with Keiko in the middle and Yamashita on one side of her and Nishikido on the other. For some reason they all had champagne flutes in hand and were pointing and laughing uproariously at the picture of Sho's ass in his An-an issue.

Ryo clasped his hands together, jolting Sho from his thoughts. "Please say she's not a psycho. Please!"

Sho swallowed down his ridiculous jealousy, stamped it down, and thought of nothing but Keiko's eyes and that smily face she'd drawn on the New Year's card for him. She was an actress, a professional, and she could film all the lovey dovey movies she wanted to. And if things had ended badly between them years back, Sho doubted that Yamapi was getting friendly New Year's cards from her. 

"She's not psycho," he said. "She's..."

Ryo looked to him with hope in his eyes.

Sho looked down, telling the truth. "She's wonderful to work with. Completely and totally wonderful. She's fun to be around, works hard, never complains. She treats the staff like human beings. She'll make you laugh. She'll do weird things like eat honey out of a jar with a spoon or show you pictures of her cat. She's just..."

Ryo was staring at him now, eyebrows raised. Their ramen arrived, as steaming hot as Sho's face was now.

"Okay," Ryo said. "Not psycho then."

They slurped their noodles in silence for a few minutes, Sho feeling like a complete bumbling idiot. All he'd had to say was "she's fine" in a cool voice, and the conversation could have continued on without any weirdness. By the end of it, Nishikido could barely meet his eyes without grinning.

Sho picked up the tab, snatching the bill as soon as it was laid down on the table. "But I asked you to come," Ryo protested, trying to sound affronted even as he kept smiling.

"I got it, don't worry about it," Sho mumbled.

They headed for the taxi stand outside, shuffling back and forth in the cold while they alternated between holding out a hand to try and flag one down. 

"There's kissing," Ryo announced to the night. "In the movie."

Sho wrinkled his nose, holding his hand out and looking desperately for a taxi.

"If that's something that bothers you, maybe you should talk to her," Ryo hinted. "Women like it when men get jealous about them."

"Good luck with filming. Stay warm," Sho replied as a cab approached and he nearly pushed Ryo into it.

His kohai rolled down the window once he got inside. "Thanks for the meal. And the pep talk. I'll keep an eye on her for you."

Sho nearly sent his boot into the taxi door, but Ryo rolled up the window and shot him a peace sign before it pulled back into traffic.

\--

"Where is she?" Dream Sho was shouting, holding the letter in his hand. "Where has she gone off to?"

Jun was at his heels, following him out of the study and into the hall. "Her carriage left this morning, my lord. I thought she'd spoken to you in person..."

He waved the letter frantically. "Matsumoto, do I make it sound as though she's spoken to me? Where has she gone?"

"Back to London, sir," Jun said. "Some family trouble, I'd expect."

Miss Kitagawa had suddenly resigned her position, leaving a note on the desk in Sho's study. It had come so suddenly that horrid little Philippa was wailing in French in the hallway, lamenting the loss of her teacher. Housemaids and footmen alike were dodging out of Sho's way as he stormed through the house, heading for the stables.

She'd left him. She'd left him! And all because of the stupid subplot with Philippa's not dead mother, who'd shown up at the house stark raving mad and intent upon kissing him. Somehow she'd looked a little too much like the Dragon Lady for Sho's comfort. It had all been a stupid misunderstanding.

Ohno was in the kitchen, stirring something in a bowl, stunned as Sho came flying through the room, Jun behind him. Sho entered the stables, calling for the groom to get his carriage ready to ride.

"Has she even indicated where in London she's gone?" Sho asked, stomping around and lamenting how vivid his dream was, smelling dung and horse all around him.

"No, my lord. She merely had Aiba assist with her trunks, though I would expect she's taken the noon stagecoach to Paddington. They'll stop halfway for the night, I'd wager..."

"And halfway is?"

"Aldershot perhaps. Or Guildford."

The groom brought the horses out while the other stable hands readied the two-horse carriage for the trip. There was a commotion as the driver came running from the house, hurrying at his master's sudden command for a side trip. He had a distinctly Sugita look about him, but with none of Sugita's assholish nature. Thank god.

"Then we ride for Aldershot and cut them off before she can get any further," Dream Sho declared, sounding downright authoritative. Sho put up with this needless scene, knowing that it was at least going to lead to Keiko in the end. There was no way she was getting away from him, not this time. Not until he'd confessed to her.

It was a key component in Operation Figure Out My Personal Life. Confessing to Miss Kitagawa would serve as Sho's dress rehearsal for the real deal. And then maybe he'd finally get to do something. It had been a long, stupid dream story and not much of a romance novel thus far. Not one love scene. Not like the movie Keiko was filming up in frigid Hokkaido with the smiling Nishikido Ryo for a kissing partner.

Soon Sho was off. The carriage tore away down the estate's gravel drive and finally it was on the open road, Sho sealed up inside with the knowledge that this truly was his last chance. Well, it was Dream Sho's last chance with Miss Kitagawa.

For once after so many months, the dream cut him some slack and fast forwarded in time. Sho lamented that there'd been no fast forward through all the interminable subplots, but at least something was finally going his way. The carriage pulled up to an inn in Aldershot at dusk, right alongside a stagecoach that was already parked. His driver had barely gotten the horses to the water trough before Sho launched himself from the carriage, holding his stupid but apparently necessary hat atop his head as his boots landed in the mud.

He entered the inn, slamming open the door and stunning an old woman who was knitting in the corner while a distinctly Yamashita Tomohisa-looking innkeeper stared at him. Sho stomped up to the counter, pulling himself to his full height. "Excuse me, is a Miss Keiko Kitagawa staying here tonight? She is unchaperoned."

Yamashita stared back at him. "We do not disclose information about guests to strangers."

But Sho knew he had something on his side. The same dumb title that gave him vast estates to manage and itchy suits to wear also gave him a bit of authority. "I am Sho Sakurai, the Earl of Gryffindor, and you will disclose whether Miss Kitagawa, my employee, is on your premises."

Of course, Sho had only discovered he was the Earl of "Gryffindor" after falling asleep watching Matsujun watch a Harry Potter DVD in the company van one morning en route to a location shoot. Stupid title or not, Yamashita turned white in fear, opening his guest ledger.

"Miss Kitagawa was with the stage that just arrived, my lord. She has been assigned to a room upstairs, and I'd be happy to have one of the maids send for her..."

"That won't be necessary," Sho said with a tip of his hat. "What is the room number?"

Yamapi the innkeep gulped. "Room eight, my lord."

He took the stairs two at a time, all set to pound on the door and holler "Miss Kitagawa!" but he'd made quite a clamor downstairs. He saw Miss Kitagawa just coming out of her room to inquire about the noise with a stern expression. At the sight of him she panicked. He pressed forward, meeting her just as she was about to shut the door in his face, sticking his foot out to keep it open. The Raffles Hotel in Singapore this was not. He wasn't going to miss his chance this time.

"You quit."

"I did," she said with the haughty governess voice he'd grown so attached to over the past several months. He wondered if he'd ever get to hear it in real life.

They saw a maid coming out of another room, and for politeness sake, they moved their conversation from the hall and into her room. They'd been alone many opportune times in the story thus far, and yet they hadn't so much as held hands.

She stood before the bed while he stayed at the door. "Tell me," he said quietly. "Why did you quit? Philippa is already inconsolable."

She looked to her skirts. "I have my reasons."

"I should like to hear at least one. Is the pay unsatisfactory? Your accommodations? Is it Philippa? I know she can be a trying youngster..."

Miss Kitagawa met his eyes and after so very long, he finally saw it. That predatory stare that could only belong to the real Keiko. The eyes that met his after a take in the Hosho family dining room and implied that he could have his way with her on the dining table if only the crew would just leave.

"It is not the pay nor the accommodations nor is it Philippa. It is you, my lord."

"Me?" Dream Sho said, sounding heartbroken just as Reality Sho did jumping jacks of joy.

"I have feelings for you, my lord," Miss Kitagawa admitted. "Feelings that interfere with my ability to work. I am a failure as a governess, letting personal preferences override everything. It is something that cannot be, and thus I am extracting myself."

"I'll not allow that extraction," Dream Sho said confidently, striding forward and turning up the cheesy dialogue. "To hell with it. I must have you, Miss Kitagawa."

She turned away, blushing. "But I'll not be your mistress. You are an earl and I am a commoner..."

"Did you not hear me? I must have you," he repeated, flinging his top hat theatrically across the room. His subconscious was apparently going to push this over the top, and Sho didn't much mind. "You won't be a commoner for long. Be my bride."

Her eyes were soon brimming with tears. Well, Sho doubted Keiko would cry in such a situation, but the climactic scene was in overdrive, much like Dream Sho's libido.

"Do you mean it? Would you bestow such an honor upon someone like me?"

She gasped as he pulled her roughly into his arms, feeling her trembling in nervous joy. "I will take care of you forever, Miss Kitagawa. Without you I am nothing. I wish for you to be the Countess of Gryffindor, to be at my side. Without you I'd have never recovered. Without you there is no reason to be."

Sho wanted to gag, but apparently this stuff worked in horrible smutty fiction. He didn't even want to know how _A Duke of My Own_ had gone when it came time for the lovers to confess their mutual adoration. 

Instead he got the girl, taking her small, delicate face between his hands and kissing her soundly. In the novel, this would have been a time for lengthy descriptions of unbuttoning and sighing and gasping but Sho was apparently not entitled to this. He was just reaching to pull the pins from Keiko's hair when

\--

"Come on," Sho grumbled when his door buzzer went off. "Sugita, I am going to murder you."

He climbed out of bed and pulled on some clothes when the buzzer sounded again, moving to the small video screen that showed the hall just outside his door. But instead of Sugita, it was one of the doormen from the building holding a box. Scratching his head in confusion, he opened the door.

"Good morning, Sakurai-san. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but this came via urgent delivery and contains perishables," the doorman explained. "We've gone ahead and signed for it so you don't have to do anything else. Once again, I apologize for the interruption."

"Thanks," he said, taking the box and closing the door.

Perishables? Well, security at his building was tight and the guys downstairs wouldn't sign for just anything. He brought the box into his living room, setting it on the floor and sitting cross-legged in front of it. Whatever was in the box had woken him from his victorious dream. He'd finally gotten Miss Kitagawa, had been on the precipice of taking her stuffy governess virginity, and now here he was, opening a parcel like a sucker.

The box was sent in the name of "A. Yamaguchi," and Sho didn't know any A. Yamaguchis, but it was postmarked from Abashiri, Hokkaido. He pulled the box open to find half a dozen cold packs inside preserving a couple sticks of "Hokkaido's Best" butter, a 500 ml bottle of "North Hokkaido Farms" milk, and five different kinds of cheese from various dairies. Also slipped inside the box was a book titled _Abashiri Prison: The Untold Story_ and a sealed glass jar filled with water that had a sticker on it reading "Snow from Abashiri."

Sho finally laughed when he unearthed a pink envelope adorned with cat stickers from beneath one of the blocks of cheese. "To Kageyama," it was labeled. He tore it open, finding neat handwriting on some cat stationery.

_Greetings from Abashiri, where I have spent the last few weeks making snowballs (and filming)! My manager sent this to you in his name, so I apologize for any confusion. I hope it is a fun surprise. Please do enjoy the many wonderful dairy products. I'd have sent along some ramen, but it wouldn't have kept well. The snow has probably melted, but there isn't much I could do about that. I saw the book in one of the local shops here, and thought it would be interesting to you. Finding it actually prompted me to send this whole box, I guess I got carried away. It's bitterly cold up here, but Nishikido-kun has been good company. He sends his best wishes along to you._

The letter was signed "Hosho Reiko" with another smily face.

Sho sat there, letter in hand, for a while before realizing that he needed to put his food in the fridge. He hurried to put the butter, milk, and cheese away, still a bit dumbstruck by all that had just taken place. And then it came to him.

This was Nishikido's doing, Sho was certain of it. Because why out of nowhere would Kitagawa Keiko send him a box of cheese and melted snow after not having seen him for months? Had Ryo dared to tell Keiko about their ramen meeting among men? Sho wouldn't do something like that, blabbing love secrets that weren't his to tell. But then again, he was slow and a little too polite and thus he'd spent months fantasizing about a woman he hadn't even spoken with or seen in person. Maybe Ryo had just done him a huge favor.

It was more than a New Year's card with a smily face. Perhaps it was her way of stating her openness to being pursued. There was no need to get the horses ready and chase her down with a carriage. There was no need for Sugita to run interference for him, no need for another uncomfortable Arashi intervention. Months of terrible dreams had certainly made him more comfortable with the thought of being with her. Sure his spring was looking horrific, with a new variety show and a drama starting. But what was one more complication? He wasn't looking for a marriage partner right off the bat, a countess to his earl. He'd never know what Keiko could be to him if he didn't simply try harder.

Maybe he just hadn't fully realized before that Kitagawa Keiko was more than just a pair of eyes staring him down, looking for a decent lay. She was all the things he'd said to Ryo too. Fun and weird and conniving enough to send care packages to one of Japan's national idols via her manager's name. She was everything that scared him and everything that drew him in. With their careers, it was always going to be bad timing. But that didn't mean giving up and running away.

He still had her email address from the summer, having sent her some photos he'd taken in Singapore while they were filming. He wrote thirteen different messages before finally settling down and skipping his usual formality.

_Oujo-sama, thanks for the dairy_ , he wrote. _When you're back in town, maybe we could catch up sometime._

\--

He hadn't dreamt about Miss Kitagawa and the manor house in three weeks. Perhaps _A Duke of My Own_ had finally run its strange, recurring course.

He'd taken three different taxis over here, more than his usual subterfuge efforts. It was 1:30 in the morning, and it was much different than the Raffles Hotel. For one, she knew he was coming, and for two, she'd gifted him with the six-digit security code to the door of her building and the four-digit code for the elevator so he could slip inside without having to check in with the doorman.

Sho ignored the fear and the doubt that were warring in his stomach, looking back on the months of sexless stupidity he'd just endured. After all, he was in Kitagawa Keiko's apartment building in the wee hours of the morning, a _FRIDAY_ exclusive if there ever was one. They could have scheduled coffee or a meal or anything else, but she'd been the first to suggest a personal visit. He'd replied in the affirmative within seconds.

He pressed the buzzer for her door and stood with his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, shooting a look down the corridor in hopes that none of her neighbors came through. She saved him though, opening the door quickly enough.

She was a mirror image of the previous summer with her hair pulled back and a pair of thick black frames perched on her nose. There was none of the Hosho Reiko glamor, only a Meiji University t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. He'd almost forgotten how short she was without Reiko's high heels. She hadn't bothered with makeup, just what seemed like a quick layer of shiny lip balm. "Hurry up and come inside," she said, waving him in. "Before the cat gets any ideas. You're not allergic, are you?"

"I'm not," he said, and she let him in.

Sho recognized a bit of himself in Keiko's apartment. There was a small table in her genkan piled high with mail, the sign of a person who was away from home often. They passed the kitchen, and there weren't any dirty dishes, the sign of someone who ordered in a lot. A large orange and white cat with a bushy tail kept watch from the table in her living room.

"This is my roommate, Jill," Keiko said, presenting the cat. "We come as a package deal."

"Is that so?" He approached slowly, holding out his fingers. The cat sniffed them indifferently, then hopped down from the table and headed off to do his own thing.

"He's going to sniff your shoes," Keiko explained. "Don't worry, he's not the jealous type so he won't puke in them."

"Good to know."

Her TV was on, and from what Sho could understand, it seemed like a Takarazuka DVD. Dancers in feathered glittery costumes that put some of the Johnny's costumes to shame were gliding around the stage. She'd turned the sound down, and that left the pair of them standing together waiting for the other person to say something.

"The timing could not be worse," he finally admitted. "Worse than last summer."

She cocked her head, grinning. "But here you are."

"You did send me food. I'm easily won over with regional specialties." He took off the cap he'd worn, setting it on her table and running a hand through his hair. "I've liked you for a long time, you know."

She nodded. "I've known that for a while. I kind of liked seeing you try and pretend you didn't."

He chuckled. "Guilty."

"And I'm equally guilty of teasing you," she explained. "But it's only because I figured that Arashi's Sakurai Sho was too difficult a target. So I had my fun with that in mind, the impossibility of it. I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable while we were working, that was not my intention."

He took a deep breath. "It's not impossible. It would be difficult, but not impossible. If it's still something you'd like to try out."

She smiled genuinely, heading for her couch and sitting down. She patted the cushion beside her. "Come here."

He padded over, sitting down and trying not to freak out. She wasn't looking at him like a piece of meat. Maybe because she was already in home territory she didn't have to. She already had him right where she wanted him. He sat with his back to the cushion, and she sat sideways facing him, resting an elbow on the cushion to prop up her head.

She simply stared at him for a while, and he didn't know where to look. He found himself watching the figures on TV, the graceful women who dressed as ideal, romantic men who were unashamed of declaring their love. He could see the appeal of it. He couldn't hear the songs, only seeing mouths open and close, arms held theatrically wide. 

"Sho-kun."

"Hmm?"

"You don't need to be so frightened of me."

He tilted his head, saw she was smiling at him. Her legs were curled up, her small, green-socked feet poking out from the bottom of her pajamas. She was normal and calm at home and hadn't gone out of her way to dress up for him. There was nothing fake or calculated about it, no manipulation. She simply waited for him to meet her halfway.

"I like my privacy, too," she said, stretching out her free hand and skimming a finger up and down his thigh. "If there are top secret Arashi relationship-hiding forms to fill out, I'll sign them all. And I like my free time. I have friends. My work is important. We don't need to be on seven days a week. I wouldn't demand or expect that from you. I get who you are and what you do."

"What if I told you I haven't been with anyone in almost a year because I couldn't stop thinking about you?"

Her eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Really? That's..."

He laughed. "Sad, right? And creepy." And he hadn't even told her about the dreams yet.

She gave his knee a pat. "I think it's charming. You weren't lonely?"

"Oh I was lonely all right."

He wasn't at all ashamed to hear her laugh at him. Finally the hand on his leg grew a bit more insistent. "If I sit on your lap, will you kiss me?"

"Sure."

And then it was finally happening. She shifted beside him, moving almost painfully slowly, turning to put a leg on either side of him, resting an arm on either side of his head. He slipped her glasses from her nose, setting them on the other cushion and his fingers found the back of her neck, drawing her close. He could smell something minty, probably toothpaste, before bringing his mouth to hers.

Here he was, Kitagawa Keiko in his lap at last. The Takarazuka Revue was a blur of color behind her, and her cat was probably scratching his sneakers. He'd made her wait a long time and tried to make up for it by holding her close, kissing her with everything he had. Her fingers bunched in his t-shirt, stretching the fabric. Finally, his brain was cheering. Finally!

There was a thump, and she moved back to frown at the sight of her cat sniffing at her glasses on the cushion beside them. "Jill-san," she addressed the animal. "Don't be creepy."

"I thought you said he wasn't the jealous type," he said quietly, stroking his fingers up and down her back.

"I have to be honest with you, Sho-kun. I haven't had anyone male over in so long that I think the poor cat is confused."

"Impossible. You seem like you'd be very popular," he said, leaning forward to nuzzle against her neck, earning a chuckle.

"It's true," she replied, sighing as she moved up and off of him. She held out her hand. "Come on, let's leave him to his feelings."

He took her hand and let her pull him up. She didn't let go, turning to lead him around to her bathroom. She got up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "The soap in the pink dispenser smells like oranges. In the blue one is vanilla."

"Mm, what if I try both?" he teased, trying to kiss her again. "Will I smell like an ice cream bar, those orange ones?"

"You're weird," she complained, pushing him away.

She left him to it, and he took what was probably the world's quickest shower. He'd opted for the orange and toweled off hoping he'd made the right choice. He picked up his clothes, snagging his wallet from the pocket of his jeans and grabbing the foil condom packet he'd stuffed inside. Her room was tidy and fairly small, mostly because she'd filled much of the space with a queen bed.

He closed the door behind him to keep the damn cat from interfering any further. She'd left on the lamp on her bedside table, and he saw that she'd pointedly left her t-shirt, pajama bottoms and green socks on the floor along with a pair of soft pink underwear. He dumped his clothes beside hers and saw that she was under her blanket, eyes shut.

He slid into the bed, sighing. "You're not asleep."

She was laying on her side and kept her eyes shut, grinning. "I'm not."

He leaned forward, slipping the blanket from her hands and pulling it down. In the warm glow of the lamp light he was able to enjoy the shape of her. Small breasts, the dip of her waist and slight swell of her hips. She bit her lip as he brought his fingers to her skin, tracing the way she curved, delighting in the way that even the outwardly confident Kitagawa Keiko shivered a bit at his teasing touch, her breaths uneven. She was warm, soft, and waiting for him.

"You're definitely not asleep. Then why are your eyes closed?" 

"Because I've thought about it for so long, I just want to take my time and enjoy it."

Sho knew the feeling. He moved her so she was on her back, hearing her sigh appreciatively as he kissed his way from collarbone to navel, trying to keep himself together long enough to make this as worthwhile as she wanted it to be. He detoured back up from her stomach to the softness of her breasts, eliciting his name from her lips without honorifics for the very first time when his tongue found one of her nipples. Her hand came to rest on the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed and sucked, sneaking a hand down her abdomen to the growing heat between her legs.

She was wet for him already, allowing him to slip a finger inside her, hearing her hum appreciatively as he stroked. "Tell me when," he whispered against her skin. "Just tell me when you want me, my lady."

"My lady?" she laughed.

"Force of habit," he murmured, enjoying how she was trembling from his touch, from the closeness of him. 

Try as she did to fight it, her hips couldn't help but arch up against his hand. He took that as a sign, increasing his pace until she was muttering his name again. He was hard, knowing she could feel the insistent press of him against her. He took his fingers back from the warm heat of her, stroking until her sharp gasp of pleasure told him he'd found the right spot. He lingered there, teasing and teasing as her words grew indistinct in favor of letting her hips do the talking for her. She was so close to coming, so close it was driving him crazy to not yet be inside her. But he kept on.

"Keiko," he breathed out against her skin. Not "Miss" Kitagawa the English nanny, not Kitagawa-san his colleague. But Keiko, she was just Keiko. The woman who oh so easily checked out his ass when the staff weren't looking, the woman he'd been so afraid of being unable to satisfy. She was no longer cool and collected now. He loved this new side she was letting him see. She allowed herself to give in to his touch, to his unrelenting need to see her come and come because of him.

"Please," she begged him. "Sho..."

And in seconds she was lost in it, almost crying, her body spasming around his hand. Completely out of control with need for him, with the happiness she was experiencing. He only stopped when it seemed to be too much, when her shaking hand came to try and push him away.

He finally turned away, fumbling for the wrapper. The mattress creaked as he moved to kneel between her still trembling legs, pushing them further apart. He was seconds from getting where he'd wanted to be for over a year. He leaned over her, his body fitting so perfectly between her thighs, clearing his throat. "You still don't want to look at me?" he asked haughtily. "With all the top secret Arashi paperwork you'll have to sign? At least see what you're signing for."

Her eyelids fluttered open, her cheeks pink and breaths coming in quick succession. Totally perfect. "Hi."

"Hi."

She let out the oddest little gleeful chuckle, unashamed of letting him see how he made her feel. She was still shaking a bit, her skin slick with sweat. She raised her arms up over her head, encouraging him to twine their fingers together against her sheets. With a quick little nod from her, he positioned himself, aligning their bodies and watching her watch him as he pressed forward. 

Her hands squeezed his tighter and tighter as he moved to fill her completely. He kissed her and withdrew slightly only to push home a bit harder. She squeezed his hands again, nodding. He moved back, rocked forward hard, this time earning a cry of surprise. In this manner, with her gasps of encouragement, he gave in, faster and harder, driving into the tight, hot depths of her. She only managed to keep her eyes on him as long as he managed to keep his eyes on her. Before too long his eyes were shut, giving in to it and giving up on coherent thought. All he knew was the sound of her breath and the headboard thumping with the steady rhythm.

It only took one more sigh from her to bring him over, burying his gasp in her hair. There was little time to bask in it because Keiko's roommate made his presence known within moments. There was a scratch scratch scratch at the door. He released her hands and made to move, enjoying the quiet little "mmm" noise of disappointment she made as he pulled away.

"Do I let him in?" he grumbled, moving off of her. "Is he going to leave claw marks in my ass?"

She laughed again, leaning over to kiss his cheek and run her fingers down his chest. "Be quiet."

There was no sign of the cat when she opened the door, slipping into the bathroom. She returned quickly, watching him clean himself off with the tissue from her bedside table with a pleased, almost possessive look in her eyes. It was wonderful to see that look again and not be in a TV studio where they couldn't do a thing about it. She leaned against the doorframe, still completely naked and flushed. "When do you have to leave?"

"I have a night shoot tomorrow, call time's 8:00 PM. I'll stay until you boot me out."

"Lucky me," she said.

"Do you make breakfast?"

She shook her head, stepping forward and picking up his t-shirt from the floor. He held his breath in as she slipped it over her head, the bottom of the shirt just grazing her hips. "I never make breakfast. That a problem?"

Soon she was under him again, letting him kiss her and wearing his shirt like a trophy. Sho didn't think breakfast was so necessary.

\--

He stood up to let her into the aisle, feeling the brush of her blouse against him as she moved past and went to open the overhead bin. Sugita's seat across from them was empty courtesy of yet another monstrosity of an iced coffee. Manager Yamaguchi was furiously typing on a laptop, ignoring the world around him. Shiina-san and his manager were in the row in front of them, both watching some action movie on the small screens in the back of the seats. Keiko pulled a book from her bag and slipped back into her seat, buckling her belt.

Sho's eyes widened at the cover. 

"Where did you get that?"

"Amazon Japan," she murmured, slipping her bookmark out. "I read English books when I need extra practice." She turned to him, poking his sleeve. "Did you want to borrow it? Maybe it'll help with the stage greetings. I'm going to make you look bad."

They were five hours from Singapore and all too soon the movie premiere. They'd be greeting the fans in English, and Sho definitely needed the practice. But all he could do was laugh at the cover - the man with the massive chest, the blonde with the curls.

"A Duke of My Own," he read out loud in English, poking at the book with his finger.

"It's a romance," she explained, moving closer to the window and away from him. "Don't make fun."

He looked around quickly, seeing that the flight attendants were elsewhere and nobody else was watching. He leaned over, invading her space to read over her shoulder, enjoying Keiko's blush but still unable to get more than a word per sentence. He brushed her hair aside, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"I'm sure it's a great book," he mumbled. She slipped further away, wiggling her finger at him in warning. As though she had a sixth sense, Sho turned to his right to see Sugita returning, buckling himself in. He moved away from her, leaning on his other armrest and clearing his throat.

"Keep it in your pants," he heard his manager mumble. Before Sho could protest, Sugita yanked the Japan Airlines magazine from his seat pocket, shoving it across the aisle harder than necessary. It hit Sho in the chest. 

"And read your fucking magazine."


End file.
